Colombo

            The Mount Lavinia Hotel turned out to be far away.  Our taxi went on and on from the airport through Colombo on a dusty, busy and bumpy road.  We were busy exchanging briefs of the last month when Jeff worked in Saudi Arabia while the children and I  were in Japan.  Rohit (7 yr. old) and Chika (5 yr. old) had a lot to say about the amusement parks in San Francisco, Sapporo and Thailand.  I had a lot to say about my parents, the swimming school where Rohit went in Sapporo, and a few side trips we took in Japan and Thailand.  Jeff arrived in Colombo Airport about three hours before we did.  Although none of us were exhausted in the early afternoon, were sweating and ready for the cool air on the beach.

We did not see any attractive old buildings.  I wanted to feel the clay ports stacked up on the roadside.  Rohit and Chika were counting different colors of ties on uniformed schoolgirls.  Finally our taxi driver turn off the main road toward the beach and drove in to the courtyard of a magnificent old white colonial style hotel.

            "How many of you?"  "Four."

            "Air conditioned?"  "Yes."

Our first night was in a suite for U$80.  That was the first and only hotel we stayed in which two rooms and four beds.  Chika slipped into my bed at mid-night and Rohit sneaked into Jeff's bed at dawn.  We decided that three beds were enough for four after that.

             There was a lovely water slide attached to the swimming pool.  Ten minutes after its discovery the children were up and down like a couple of otters.  At the tail of the monsoon season, the waves were roaring onto the beach.  We were happy at the poolside watching the kids instead of struggling with the waves.

            We could see Colombo City seven miles away.  I began to get a feel for distances in Sri Lanka.  Seven miles would mean about 40 minutes.  If we wanted to look around, we had better start moving.  The next morning, Jeff and I started scouting travel agencies.

            We started at the hotel.  The agent was sitting in the corner of the lobby.  We approached with our usual naive questions.  We did not know what to ask.  We found that one way of describing the cost of traveling is by rupees per km and then add so much per a day for the driver.  With those figures, we decided to go to Colombo for further comparisons.  We hired a baby sitter.  A woman of mid fifties came.  She told Jeff, "I want 50 rupees per hour."  Jeff did not have time to think that it could be negotiable.  She won a great deal that after noon.  Rohit and Chika both played in the water all afternoon with three other children whose parents were also watching them.

             We were willing to pay for a good guide and solid car which are available to well heeled patrons of first class hotels.  We walked into a five star hotel, The Colombo Oberoi.  We were dressed rather casually and it was a little embarrassing to walk around in the fancy lobby, pricing the accommodations.  We sat down with a pleasant looking young woman who was sitting at a beautiful teak desk.  She worked for Walker Tours.  She gave us a price in terms of miles, including the cost of gasoline.  She figured out the milages of our itinerary.  We wanted to have an English speaking guide/driver who liked children and a nice comfortable car.  Let's not forget that we had five good size suitcases, one heavy carry-in baggage, two shoulder bags, two children's backpacks, Jeff's julamuni, and my purse.  The girl told us we had a choice between a van with the best guide they had or a good guide with a Peugeot station wagon.  Jeff insisted on the station wagon because it was a better riding vehicle than a van for a 1,000-mile journey.  We had a good chat with this girl and got all the advice and recommendations we could think of.  Her price was even better than the agent at the Mt. Lavinia Hotel.  We were happy to spend the rest of the afternoon shopping and looking around.

          We went to the center of Colombo and let the taxi driver go for lunch.  We were in the large government sponsored handicraft center.  It was hot and humid. At the entrance, there were security guards checking our possessions.  It was very dark and hot in the store because of a power outage.  I could not get interested enough to buy anything viewed through the dim light of the windows. We decided to find a place for lunch.  Dust bothered my eyes.  After peeking in two or three restaurants, I regretted that we did not go to the coffee shop in the Oberoi.  Walking down the main street, where the major airline offices were next to each other,  I told myself, I would not be interested in working in those offices.  I did not like the chipped china of the International Hotel coffee shop.  I was not impressed by the food either.  I was hopelessly cranky and tired from managing a month of trip from the U.S. to Sri Lanka alone with two children.  As soon as we saw the driver, we went back to the hotel.

            The children were still up and down the water slide.  They were content and well fed.  We paid 200 rupees the baby sitter.  That was more than we paid to the driver.  Arriving from opposite direction, the children and I had a different jet lag from Jeff's. We went to bed early but Jeff did not sleep much until later.

             Atley showed up at 7:30 the next morning.  He was a thin to skinny fellow with dark curly hair and mahogany skin.  When I shook his hand, he did not look comfortable and his grip was quite weak.  A feeble smile reminded me of a small water animal.  At least he looked good with children and that was important.  The white station wagon had a solid roof rack for the luggage.  In spite of the entire luggage we had, at least one of our children had room to lie down.  It was perhaps a ten-year-old model.  The left front door did not open and close properly.  Yet, it was nice to go through the traffic with air conditioning.  That could I say.  We had better have a good time.  Atley’s English was adequate but it was not easy to understand what he really meant.  I am sure he was trying to figure our English too.

Atley showed us around Colombo.  At the end of Monsoon, the houses were covered by black stain and mold.  The atmosphere reminded me a lot of Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia.  The tropical plants looked healthy and at home.

            We needed some cash before leaving Colombo.  Atley stopped at a bank.  It was a busy place and packed with men.  When I tried to cash our traveler’s checks, the cashier told me to go to the office next door.  A man came out and showed us the way to the office.  The foreign exchange office was a room where thirty people were working at small desks closely laid out next to each other.  Many were young women.  They did not seem so busy.  They had a lot of time to look at us.  We were led to the supervisor who got on the phone to check the exchange rate.  With many signatures it took about 40 minutes before our checks were endorsed.  We had a lot of time to look at them too.  The total impression was not of a major bank in the capital of a country.  Of course I was kicking my self for not having cashed checks at the hotel because they had a slightly lower rate than at the airport bank.  

Safari

            We wanted to see the wild animals of the Wilpattu National Park.  It was only the day before when we heard that the national parks were closing for the month of September.  The last bus would leave at 2:30 at the gate the same day.  We headed for Wilpattu some 60 km to the north.

            We saw many Catholic churches along the West coast and many schools as well.  We could see school children studying because most schools did not have walls.  After driving one hour, Atley said his home was near by.  It meant he had to leave his house around 5:30 that morning.  I knew he was thinking of his three children.  He said he was a Catholic and grew up in this area.

            I asked him abut the batik factory.  One of my favorite kaftans I wear quite often is from Sri Lanka.  I wanted to know where an how to buy.  Atley said that he knew a good place.  The place he chose to stop was very nice.  I was taken to the factory where girls were working.  The shop was tastefully displayed.  We bought Chika a dress and Rohit a shirt.  I was dying to buy some comfortable beach-wear and a simple dress.  But the price was not particularly low and I was not sure whether to bargain or not.  I thought there would be more opportunities to do shopping later.  I spent more time than we should there for we did not have time for lunch.  We bought some bananas and went ahead.

            The more we went the more we realized what driving 60km meant.  For 40 minutes, Atley was very quiet and concentrated solely on driving.  We were at the gate of the park at 2:28!  He was very happy when he made the time limit.  Then he was very unhappy when we were told that the last bus was cancelled and we would have to take a truck to see the animals.  It was to cost us 600 rupees compared to the 40 rupees of the bus.  He was much more upset about it than we were.  We tried his best to get there by 2:30 which was written in the official guide book.  "What is this? Please give me the receipt Sir,  I am going to write a letter."  His outrage did reduce the price to 500 rupees.           

            The safari was quite successful.  In thick bushes with many small lakes, we saw elephants, a mongoose, crocodiles, wild buffaloes, a herd of spotted deer, elk, and a variety of birds.  Too bad, some names have already slipped from my memory.  I was too busy holding on to the small truck on the bumpy road instead of writing what the tracker (guide) told us.  He was quite knowledgeable about the game.  We were accompanied by a man who was going to stay in the lodge in the middle of the park for a month, keeping house.  We dropped him at the lodge.  He was not going to see any visitors except monkeys and buffaloes for a month.  When we passed the lodge on the way out, he had changed to his sarong and came to wave good bye to us, the people who saved him from a long walk.  We were the very last customers of the season.           

              Atley was waiting for us at the gate with three children.  A few sweets would not hurt them.  I slipped a few drops into their hands without letting my children know.  

Anuradhapura    

                                                   Moon Stone

 　        The next goal was Anuradhapura, the ancient Sri Lankan capital.  It was getting dark.  The children started asking "How long?"  We did not have any hotel reservations for the trip…..as usual.  We counted on the luck of the off season traveler.  Atley mentioned the name of the hotel he would recommend.  I opened the guide book.  There were two places mentioned in the book and they were next to each other.  We were indifferent.  Atley told us about a Portuguese family who had stayed in one place one night then moved to the other the next night, but then moved back to the first place for the third night.  They liked the service in the first place better he said.  We did not have any problems deciding on the first place.  "Actually, Sir," he confessed with a sigh of relief, "I like the first place because they have mosquito nets in the drivers’ quarters."  Anuradhapura was the only place he wished to have a net because there are many mosquitoes because of the reservoirs.  We like to whenever the truth comes out.  We thought that it was a good enough reason to choose the first hotel.

              The hotel restaurant was almost closed at 8 pm.  Jeff had to take a shower before we went to the restaurant.  Whenever I see a big shower head from which water comes vertically and I have no choice but wet my hair, I am quite reluctant to take a shower right away.  One or two mosquitoes in the shower room turned me off.  The children were tired and hungry.  We ordered room service spaghetti and French fries for the kids.  They were sound asleep when the food arrived.  Their food became our dinner.  We crashed too after that.  Around four o’clock in the morning, the kids were awake and asked "Where is my spaghetti?"  "Where are my French fries?"

              It was a pleasant surprise to find a beautiful garden outdoors.  We went crazy taking pictures.  Rohit was transfixed with a snake charmer at the gate.  The old man was a Rohit charmer too.  After trying a few blows, one of his flutes joined our collection.  But I did not buy any of the snake skins he showed me.  Atley found a guide at the hotel and asked if we were interested in hiring him.  We said no because we had Atley and a guide book.  Pretty soon we found  that Atley was not the right person to show us the temples and tell us the history and popular stories related to the places.  He said it is always a good idea to hire a certified guide in each place for a little money.  He helped us to find another one who was young and student-looking.  He was good but could have been better if he did not try so hard to impress us.  I was beginning to realize whenever Atley asked if we were " interested," we had better say "Yes".  But were only learning. 

           Anuradhapura was full of old temples and dagobas.  UNESCO was sponsoring several restorations.  It was interesting to compare Buddhist temples in Japan and those in Sri Lanka.  The amount of energy spent in either place on behalf of religious beliefs is incredible.  They build a huge monument over a handful of sand which may contain a bit of ash of the Buddha or they preserve a huge Bo Tree which came from India thousands of years ago.  I liked the delicate works in the moonstone at the temple gates or the peaceful expression on the guardstones better than the gigantic domed dagobas.  Two hours later, we were back to the hotel.

              Before we came to Sri Lanka, many people asked us if it was safe to go to Sri Lanka because of the trouble between the Singhalese and the Tamil.  We were concerned of course, and would definitely stay away from the Jaffna area which might be dangerous.  The old capital city Anuradhapura and the stories of great kings told us that the history of Sri Lank is the history of struggle between these two groups of people.  They have been fighting in this small country for thousands of years.  We were headed toward Trincomalee which is located on the North East coast of Sri Lanka where the majority of the population is Tamil.  The Tamils were originally from South India and were pushed out from India by other invaders.  We saw more Hindu temples in Villages, but other than that it was a rather uneventful drive.  We saw smoke here and there but it was field burning and not fighting.  We stopped the car to take pictures of a bright red carpet of peppers drying in the sun.  As soon as we stopped, there appeared several children from no where in no time.  It was impossible to find a private spot behind a bush. 

              Atley made a stop at Kanniyai Hot Spring before we went into Trincomalee.  There were seven wells of different mineral content and different temperature.  People bathe with a little bucket poring hot spring water over their head, and shoulders.  I was not wearing sea comfortable easy dress but I tried the water on my feet.  It was a soothing sensation on my tired feet.  My feet felt happy for hours after that.  That was the only place where we were really close to the Tamil people.  They were as gentle and pleasant as any other Sri Lankans though the Singhalese would not agree with me.

Trincomalee

              Trincomalee is a beach where many European go for snorkeling and scuba diving.  One of the reasons why we had so much luggage was because Jeff brought all the snorkeling equipment for all of us from Saudi Arabia.  One suitcase was full of fins and masks.  We were going to stay in "Trinco" two nights and go snorkeling one day.  The Club Oceanic was a nice place to stay.  Rohit and Chika went to the swimming poor.  I was happy to do some washing and Jeff was happy to curl up with a book.  We had a big lobster dinner that night.  Our children enjoyed soup and bread.

              Early the next morning, Jeff and Rohit hired a boat and went snorkeling with three Sri Lankans attached to the hotel.  I stayed with Chika.  There was a nice little yard where they kept deer, peacocks and monkeys.  Chika and I enjoyed feeding the deer.  They eat a lot of greens.  I met a Japanese lady in the spa.  Her husband was the Project Manager for one of the many Japanese construction projects in Sri Lanka.  It was a pity that I did not have enough time to talk to her.  Rohit and Jeff brought back a lobster.  They had a super time snorkeling with the three Sri Lankan in the boat.  It was a macho experience for my men.

              Atley came back at 4 pm to take us around the Trinco area.  We drove through Portuguese Fort, to a Hindu shrine located on a cliff top called Swami Rock which dropped over 300 feet to the sear.  It was reputed to be a favorite place for lovers to throw themselves.  It was a short drive, but I feel we saw everything the guide gook mentioned.  

Polonnaruwa  

            We left at 9 am the next morning for the ancient city Polonnaruwa.  It was the capital city from the 11^th to 13^th Century.  Atley talked abut the "Tanks" here and there.  Tanks are huge reservoirs built a thousand years ago by the kings.  When Anuradhapura was abandoned because of the invasion from Southern India, Sri Lankans built another capital city with many tanks.  Polonnaruwa was built on the side of a tank which looks like a good size lake.  We asked Atley to look for a guide from the beginning this time.  The certified guide was out for lunch.  We had lunch in the Rest House were Queen Elizabeth lunched 30 years ago.

            The restaurant was perched over the tank and we could see a young man washing himself at the shore of the tank.  He had a sponge and soap.  He put soap on the sponge, scrubbed his body very thoroughly, and went in the water and rinsed himself.  He did this three times.  Who can say people are not clean in Sri Lanka?

            The guide was a man of forty with a gentle smile who was a researcher working at the nearby museum.  He had a white parasol and let me use it and I appreciated it because it was a hot day.  He was very knowledgeable and was a man who knew when to be quiet.  We liked that about him.  Chika decided to stay with Atley in the car.

            Polonnaruwa was a beautiful place to visit.  The ruins were not restored but generally in good condition.  We could imagine the life of the palace, and admire the energy spent on the Buddhist monuments.  Though I am not a Buddhist, grown up in Japan, I like sculptures of Buddha.  There were many beautiful faces in the area.  I could just sit and look for hours at the largest Buddha's lying images carved in the rock at Gal Vihara.  Rohit was sitting with a Buddhist monk who was dressed in saffron cloth.  I asked him if I could take a picture of him with Rohit.  We thought that we were not supposed to take pictures of monks.  He not only assured "Yes" but also gave Rohit his address so that we could send a copy of the picture to him. 

             We could not help noticing that wherever you go there were people trying to sell you things or those who try to get something from you.  People don’t leave you alone.  Chika and Rohit started to say “"Gimmi scupen."  "Gimmi bon bon."  Like some of the school children we encountered.  I gave a pen a day to the child with the brightest eyes.  I gave a few candies from Japan I had hidden in my purse to one or two girls who did not ask me for anything.  I could eventually tell who was going to ask for school pen and who was going to ask for candies.  More than anything, I wished we brought a boxes of school supplies. 

              When you visit sacred places in Sri Lanka, you have to take off your shoes to show your respect.  There were many beautiful sculptures at Polonnaruwa.  We had to step on the hot stone steps baked by the sun.  There were not many shaded areas.  We ran up the steps jogging constantly around the sculptures.  I well remember the sculptures with my bare feet.  Rohit thought it was a game.  Chika was happy to stay with Atley.  Atley bought a drink or got some bananas for her when she was thirsty or hungry.  

Sigiriya    

              We hurried off to Sigiriya.  It was about 20 miles away.  We turned off the main road and onto an unpaved road that the jungle was quickly reclaiming.  The last seven miles felt so long.  We thought we would never get there.  But Atley was right again.  We arrived at Sigiriya Village at 4:30.  We checked in and Atley asked the reception people to take care of Chika for a few minutes and he drove us to the rock fortress.  We were the last persons to get through the gate that day. 

              The rock fortress of Sigiriya was our favorite place and gets the highest recommendation.  According to one of the several guide books we purchased:  

            Sigiriya was deserted and rediscovered during the British era.  The fortress was built on top of a 600 foot high rock.  It was not just a fortress but was a rock-top pleasure garden.  The only way to get up to the top was by narrow and steep stone steps. 

              Atley picked one of the young men who wait on people like us at places like Sigiriya and instructed him to be our guide.  Another one came with us too thinking Rohit or I would need a hand.  I kept telling him I was OK, but nothing worked.  If Chika's sprained ankle had not bothered her so much I would have interested her in coming with us.  But she was not all that interested.  I know now that she could have had several men carry her up if she wanted.

            The whole rock was once covered with fresco paintings of beautiful women.  Only 22 pictures remain today out of perhaps 500.  We climbed up the spiral stairway to a long sheltered gallery in the sheer rock face.  In the late afternoon Sunlight, the mysterious and sensuous looking women pleased Jeff immensely.  He took better pictures than I did.

              It was a long and hard climb.  It helps to have smaller feet when it comes to climbing narrow steps.  There was a platform from which we had to climb up between two enormous lion paws.  At one time, people had to climb up into a gigantic mouth of a lion.  Today, we had to go up across a series of grooves cut into the rock face.  On the top of the rock there was a tank scooped out of the solid rock.  It looked like a swimming pool.  We could see the swimming pool of our hotel where Chika was supposed to be swimming.  I missed my five-year-old daughter very much for she would enjoy the pictures on the wall as well as piggyback ride on the rock garden.  The top area of the rock was four acres in size.  We were sitting on the stone throne cut from the solid rock watching for an invading army with elephants coming toward us in jungle.  What a imagination Kasyapa had.  He stayed on the top of the rock the entire rainy season, and the rest of the time, he lived in the Summer Palace below.  With the sun going down, we could see a rock elephant and a snake head marking the corners of his palace garden.  The whole palace was shaded with fear and guilt and yet sparkled with a fantastic dream and effort to live his short expected power.  It was windy on the top.  Nobody else was around.  "Only a king can grieve about not being the king."  I was somewhat mournful there.

              The guide and the unwanted guide tried to justify their being with us but helping me down the steps, while I felt energetic and jumpy.  I kept telling them I did not need any help because I had good foot-ware.  Jeff was the one who insisted on climbing with bare feet and flip-flops and who had difficulty climbing down.  Jeff will never be forgiven for taking a picture of me while two chauvinistic Sri Lankans try to take the hands of an unknown Japanese woman.  When we passed the gate, the guard said "Sayonara".  He said we were late but he was still happy to chat with me about the Japanese who come there.  We tipped both guides generously because they were actually not bad. 

              Atley was waiting for us with Chika.  He was beginning to worry because we were so late.  It was past 6 pm.  He said there was a burglar from the jungle some time ago.  He was still guarding our luggage in the car.  Before we said good night to Atley we asked, "What time shall we meet you here?"  He always answered,  "What time would you like to leave, Sir?"  More and more we said "Any time you think."  When he said "8 or 8:30," we took 8.  If he said "8 or 9," we took 8:30.

              Sigiriya Village was the nicest hotel we encountered.  All the hotel rooms were individual or duplex cottages.  The gardens were just beautiful.  The main building which contained the dining room and lobby was a big gable supported by pillars.  There were no walls except for the kitchen partitions.  There was natural air conditioning.  We knew then why many school buildings did not have walls.  Many ancient building left only pillars.  They really did not need walls with such a stable temperature all through the year!  Security and privacy were not issue in this peaceful island.  The hotel room was very tastefully decorated.  The shower room was one of the nicest ones with a good shower head which could be TURNED!

             Disappointment was that the swimming pool was closed at 6 pm.  We chose the hotel carefully so that a swimming pool would be available for us.  We came back from the rock too late.  The next time we will stay there two nights.  Chika and Rohit were happy to watch a frog in the pond, and I was happy to see a nice shop.  Chika seemed to already know all the employees of the hotel including the shopkeeper.

              We were beginning to be very hungry and curious about authentic Sri Lankan food.  When the waiter brought the menu, he brought only the fixed menu for the night.  Just as in many tourist hotels we thought; there is no choice but to have some semi-British food with a dash of Sri Lankan influence.  We then asked,  "Is this a fixed menu?"  The waiter said "Yes."  Too bad we thought, and ordered a meal without character.  Eventually, we noticed that people at a nearby table were having all different kinds of food including nice looking curries.  Why didn’t the waiter bring the main menu to us with many selections?  We still don’t know.  Our protest did not work.  We were very disappointed in the best looking restaurant in the trip.

              The children went to sleep in the restaurant.  Rohit seemed to think that restaurant were place in which to sleep.  He is getting tall and it was not easy to carry him any more.  He had to wake up and walk.  We got a few mosquito bites in the garden.  In the bathroom with shiny white walls I chased and killed some of them.  Probably swimming poor was out of question after dark. 

              It was too bad to leave such a good hotel so early.  But we packed, called the bell captain, had breakfast, and left by 8:30.  Atley counted the luggage, put the three large ones on the roof, and loaded the car systematically as he did every morning.  We started our seventh day in Sri Lanka travelling toward Kandy.

One Way to Kandy

            It was a beautiful morning.  I had not read the guidebook about Kandy and we did not have any hotel reservation but we were totally relaxed.  Atley asked, "Are you interested in seeing wood carving?"  "Oh, sure."  If Atley asked, we would be interested.  Atley stopped at a small shop and outdoor factory.  Three men were working outside.  We liked an old man who was carving a small elephant of ebony wood.  Jeff took some pictures.  Inside was a nice shop.  A variety of elephants, moonstones, trays, and secret boxes, were pleasantly arranged.  At the end of this years' circumnavigation, we did not have room for big items.  I was not interested in the polished elephants inlaid with white pieces of shell but I wanted to own the little elephant the old man was carving.  I kept coming back to watch his hands.  I finally bought the unpolished elephant of black ebony for 35 rupees.  Jeff was in love with the old man’s tools with hand carved handles.  He particularly liked a chisel with a large ebony handle that shined with years of use.  Jeff finally asked him if he would sell it to him.  It must have been difficult to part with a favorite tool.  After a little hesitation, he told Jeff that he would sell it for 50 rupees.  Jeff would have paid three times that amount.  Jeff took our his favorite ballpoint pen and told the old man, “This is my favorite tool.  I use it everyday,” and gave it to him.  He was pleased and gave Jeff a well used ebony pounder-cum-hammer.  It was a beautiful exchange.  The tools and the little elephant will be our treasures…along with the memories of the people we met, who formed the best part of our Sri Lanka.  He gave us his address so we could send pictures to him.

            Who wants air conditioning on such a beautiful morning?  Besides it is hard on the car.  We left the windows open and drove on.  We began to notice signs for "CURD" and we saw many stands selling curd in stacks of shallow clay bowls and sugarcane honey in bottles dangling from the tin roofs.  Jeff said it we yogurt made of buffalo milk which he had eaten in India many times.  We went through the village very slowly but did not stop.  After we left the village Atley told us that it was the best place in Sri Lanka to buy curd.  We learned we had better stop when Atley hinted.  It was several more days before we came across another curd village.

              The children leaned whom to ask.  "Atley, I’m hungry."  Chika said.  "Atley, I am thirsty."  Rohit said.  "Yes, baby."  Atley said.  No matter how they protested, both Rohit and Chika were "babies" for Atley.  He stopped at a stand to buy bananas.  "Let me take care of it."  Atley always insisted on buying drinks or bananas because he could but at local prices.  The girl who attend the stand where we stopped used to work in Singapore but had come home to get married.  The small shop that sold bananas, boxes of biscuits, rice, rope, and a few coconuts was typical of the shops along the road.  We liked her smile.  Jeff took some pictures of the stand and the onion farming extended family who lived behind the shop and onion fields.  He came back with more addressed for copies of pictures.  We had a good time.  As we got in the car to go, we saw a man being carried home by his friends who was drunk with Arak, the strong local drink made from coconut tapping.  Atley conveyed the local attitude by saying that toddy hits your head but arak takes your legs away.  

            The next stop was a spice garden.  Spice gardens are a unique feature to tourism in Sri Lanka and they dot the roadside between Sigiriya and Kandy.  They are just what they say they are: a garden that is full of living growing spices and herbs.  The place we stopped was small but intensively cultivated and was no bigger than my own garden.  Did you know nutmeg and mace come from the same plant?  There were many plants I had not seen before because some of them had been monopolized by Portuguese or Dutch traders, or their export had been restricted by governments.  After smelling crushed leaves, testing bark, viewing berries or powders, we bought some sandal wood soap, curry powder, and a bottle of citronell which is to stop the itching of a mosquito bite.  It turned out to be a very interesting stop.

            We began to see well buildt and more expensive homes as we approached Kandy.  It has a large Muslim population and has benefit from Middle East remittances.  We drove into Kandy at noon and Atley stopped at a branch of his agency.  The manager came out and told us about a group of Japanese who were working on a documentary film.  "They are crazy people.  They work from 7 o'clock in the morning till 11 at night."  Shaking his head, he went on and on about the Japanese workaholics in the middle of the street.  Atley listened politely but didn’t say a word.  I think he found it a little amusing.  We went to a lovely hotel with a good view of the lake.  We liked the room but not the swimming pool.  Atley took us to another hotel which we liked.  We had a good curry and had a nice rest at the poolside all afternoon.

            The temple of the Tooth is located in the center of Kandy and is the spiritual center of Sri Lanka.  We went there in the evening at 6 PM.  A self-employed guide who was an ex-policeman took us around.  All he could say was "This is very old" or "This is so many years old."  We quickly got tired of him and tried everything we could to get rid of him.  We actually told him to go away but he was always there.  The temple was full of people.  The Kandyan drummers were powerful and impressive.  There was a library which had old Buddhist scripts written in Pali.  The policeman who thought he was a guide told us again "This is very old."  We were pleased to pay him just to get rid of him.  We hurried to the Kandyan dancers.  Atley would not let us miss the dances.  We suspected that Atley liked the dances himself.

            While we were waiting guess who walked in…the Campbell’s.  Rohit, Chika and Mark were thrilled to find each other after a two month’s separation.  They were hugging each other and laughing and not knowing what to do with each other.  We were planning to meet each other in Hikkadua in two days.  We knew they had arrived in Sri Lanka the day before and we knew they were planning to see the Kandyan dance one night.  One thing we did not know was that they left Columbo in the morning, went Anuradhapura, Sigiriya, a spice garden during the day and made the Kandyan dance that evening.  They had a guide, a driver, a van, and one and a half suitcases.  They said they were sore all over which made Jeff glad we had a station wagon.  We were surprised they were still alive and well.  Drinking good local beer, we watched the exquisite Kandyan dances together.  After the dance we saw “fire walking”.  In the yard there was a 3 x 10 feet bed of burning charcoal.  The charcoal sparkled in the darkness as the ash was raked away.  Two or three men walked across the charcoal wearing bare feet.  It was done gracefully and there was no hint of pain.  We went back to our hotel, had dinner and went to bed.  I found a Buddhist bible written in English and Japanese distributed by the Japanese version of the Gideon Association.  I enjoyed reading it for a while.

            We could have combined owner two groups but different travel agencies have different affiliations.  We started a new travel genre called parallel travelling with the Campbell’s  We did not go to places together but we did go to more or less the same places but in a different sequence and at a different pace.  It worked out fine and it was fun to compare notes.

            We started that morning with an elephant bath.  What I mean really is that we watched an elephant take a big bath in a river at place that rented working elephants and halfway catered to tourists.  Each one of us had at least one ride on an elephant.  Rohit and myself, Chika and myself, Rohit alone, and Jeff alone.  Only one in three hundred Indian elephants develop tusks which explains why tuskers rate so highly in Sri Lanka.

            We then went to the Botanical Gardens.  Atley was very sure we were going there and we went without expecting very much.  It turned out to be a place developed during British era.  It certainly ranked as a world class botanical garden and was the best botanical we have seen that specialized in tropical plants.  We saw large trees of the same species we had seen in the small spice garden.  The Orchid house had hundreds of different kinds of orchids and there was a fine collection of cacti although it was closed.  In the center of the garden there was a gigantic Umbrella tree.  Under it a couple was sitting conspiratorily close together, a pair of young girls found a place to tell their secrets to one another and there was still plenty of room to take a walk under the tree without intruding.  We walked back onto the main path and a young gardener approached us with a scorpion tied by it’s tail to a piece of cardboard.  Another young fellow climbed up a tall tree to wake hundreds of bats into flight.  Atley never showed approval or disapproval of those people but the old guide in his white uniform and gleaming badge clearly thought these fellows kibitzers who wouldn’t have been so readily tolerated if the British were still at home in Sri Lanka.  If you count the guide we hired, we made at least three people’s life a little richer that morning.

            One of the things to shop for in Sri Lanka is gem stones.  I tried not to be too curious about them.  I did look in the Colombo stores but the jewels were not particularly attractive.  Kandy is the place to but according to the guide books.  When Atley asked me if we wanted to see the gem stones and the cutting of them and there were no reason to say no.  It was interesting to watch men making jewelry.  We could not simply walk out of the place without looking at things sold in the best arranged store we had seen.  So…only American Express knows the rest.

            We moved on to a Batik store-cum-factory where there were many nice things but I was not going to spend any more money unless I was absolutely sure and I was not sure enough to but batik peacocks and elephants for our house.  Jeff told me that a long drive was ahead us.  After a hasty late lunch, we began the climb to Nuwara Eliya.

Nuwara Eliya 

          Sri Lanka is the world largest tea exporting country.  Tea production is the cornerstone of the Sri Lankan economy.  It is rather astonishing that tea plantations started only 120 years ago.  We went up and up a winding road climbing hill after hill---every square foot covered by tea bushes trimmed neatly to a height of three feet.  It was my favorite sight in Sri Lanka.  I enjoyed every minute of the drive through the rich jade colored hills which were so soothing to my eyes.  The shapes of the hills and valleys, and hidden streams were all gently covered in the misty air of the late afternoon.  The short trimmed tea trees clearly defined the shape of the land.  After each turn Atley made, I unexpectedly found more beauty. 

         We were admiring the dance of silver waterfalls when Rohit saw a white van two miles ahead of us on the winding road.  He was very sure it was the Campbell’s He did not give a hoot for the magnificent scenery.  Rohit and Chika concentrated solely on following the white van.   

            We stopped at one of the tea factories at 4:55 PM.  I did not have any idea but while I was enjoying the drive, Atley was trying his best to get to the factory by 5 PM.  We saw the Campbell's white van and their driver and guide in the parking place which confirmed Rohit's and Chika's guess that the white van belonged to the Campbell's.  We were led upstairs into a factory that smelled of roasting tea leaves.  Rohit and Chika helped the girls who were working to push the large piles of tea leaves through the small hole in the floor.  As usual, the children had a great time with the women workers.  The factory was not large and it did not take more than thirty minutes to see.  We had a cup of tea in the tea shop with the Campbell's and decided to share a carton of tea.  Atley was happy to but the top quality tea which is not ordinarily available to people of Sri Lanka but saved for export.  He was eligible to buy because he brought foreign exchange to the factory as tourists.  It was getting dark and quite cold when we went back to the winding road to Nuwara Eliya.  Quite a number of Tamil workers were walking home on the steep road but very few had smiles.

            We were anxious to know if we could stay in an very exclusive and very British colonial hotel called the Hill Club.  Atley did not seem to be a worried.  Sure enough, when we arrived at six o'clock, Doug, Sharon and Mark had already arranged a room for us next to theirs and were waiting for us.  The atmosphere was overwhelmingly English.  When the tea growers in the hill a hundred years ago.  We looked around the library, billiard room, men’s bar, and mixed bar before dinner.  Jeff insisted on cleaning up and dressing for dinner at 8:00.  He wore the suit he brought just this night and looked very handsome.  He does not remember what I wore.  Neither do I.

            The candlelight dinner was simply beautiful.  I don't remember what we ate at all perhaps because I was busy telling the kids which knife and fork to use and where to put them when they finished.  Waiters in white gloves, huge fresh flower arrangements, three happy chattering children in a big dining room in which everyone else was speaking in whispers, what could we do?  Turtle soup or Campbell's Tomato Soup would not have made any difference.  I remember vaguely that we had coffee in the adjacent room and watched Chika sleeping in the most relaxed pose on a couch in front of the fire place.  It was a long day.  We went to bed with a hot water bottle at the foot of each bed.

            The next morning, we were busy getting a fix on the possibility of going to "World's End", while the Campbell's left early in the morning heading for the coast.  World End is a spectacular view from the Horton Plains where they come abruptly to an end and drop 1500 meters to the coastal plain below.  We found that to go to "World's End" we needed to stay one more day in the area.  Our time was getting short at the end of our journey.  Instead of World’s End we enjoyed two hours of leisure in the glorious mountain morning sum.  Rohit and Chika took pony rides while we took pictures of the gardens and old homes.

            Atley had not shown much enthusiasm for World's End because we would need to rent a jeep.  More than anything else, I suspected he did not like the cooler climates of the mountains.  He looked happy to leave the hill country for the warmer coast.  He stopped at Ella for lunch where we enjoyed a beautiful view of Ella Gap, and looked down to the coastal plain nearly 1,000 meters below.  Good work, Atley!  It was the best substitute for World’s End.  We took time to have a curry lunch in the Ella Rest House until a bus full of French tourist arrived.  We decided to go on.  As we got in the car big rain drops started to fall.  As we went down the road, it poured like a waterfall.  The three large suitcases on the roof-top had been wrapped in a heavy vinyl cover by Atley while we ate contentedly without any idea of a change in weather.  We were as excited about the rain as four children who had never seen rain.  The road was new and smooth.  In the heavy rain a ten year old boy came to the car with a good size piece of mica.  I paid 50 cents for it and a pink rock.   How could I say no to him?  He was soaking wet.  But I had to say no to another boy who came up right after the first to sell his pink rocks. 

            The shower did not last long and we were soon on the coastal plain.  We noticed many bus loads of Sri Lankans.  In the Ancient cities and temples, we noticed many groups of people, young and old, having picnics, or camping.  They were Buddhists on pilgrimage.  I thought that religious travelers look more or less the same, Christians or Buddhists.  Each bus with many excited people had a sprig of rice plants tied on the nose of the vehicle.  Atley told us that meant they were going to Kataragama, one of the most important pilgrimage site for both Buddhists and Hindus.  The fire-walking and other acts of ritual masochism the people were going to see would take place in a few days.

            It was an uneventful drive.  I had a little on and off afternoon nap.  We started to feel a faint sea breeze, and saw several "CURD" stands again.  Needless to say, this time, we stopped at one of the stands.  We empties two clay bowls of buffalo yogurt with sugarcane syrup. Each clay bowl contained a little less than two cups.  The children did not like it and I was not impressed either.  But I had three servings and was glad I did otherwise my curiosity would never have been satisfied.  In no time, we were surrounded by many children and adults.  We thought we had stopped in a rather isolated place.  We must have been an entertaining bunch for people there. 

            Jeff asked Atley if we could have "hoppers" anywhere.  In Hambantota, a little town on the Southern coast,  Atley stopped in front of a tavern.  He walked in and asked if they made hoppers.  We got to watch a woman making them in the back of the kitchen.  Hoppers are crisp rice-flour pancakes which can have an egg inside.  They handed us about eight of these to eat in the car.  Rohit went absolutely mad for them.  The first eight hoppers disappeared.  We all decided to have nothing but Sri Lankan breakfasts every morning.  Little did we know how difficult this would prove to be during the rest of our trip.

          The Campbell's were supposed to stay in Hikkaduwa that night and Rohit and Chika were very anxious to join Mark but it was getting later and we were all tired.   

Tangila           

            "Atley, where are we going to stay tonight?"

Jeff asked half-yawning.  We had not bothered to find out where we were or how far we were from any accommodations.

            "How about Tangalla Bay Hotel, Sir?"

            "Sounds fine"

We loved this kind of totally hassle-free travel decision making.  I could not help thinking of the many dark roads traveled in Spain, Tunisia, Lesotho, Transkai, and South Africa, looking for a place to stay for the night.

            The hotel Atley brought us to was surprisingly reasonable.  Each room had its own balcony that extended on the room below.  The bellboy opened the glass doors to the balcony.  The balcony and our triple room became on long open room to the ocean.  He then opened one vertical and one horizontal window on each side of the room for natural ventilation.  It was glorious.  We listened to an orchestra of sea breezes.  The central complex of the hotel was designed to look like a boat.  Each room was called a cabin.  The idea was interesting but it looked as if they had run out of money before the hotel/boat was completed.  While having seafood curry, I redecorated the interior in my mind.  We slept with the windows wide open.  I woke at midnight and could not go back to sleep.  I sat on the balcony and looked at a sky full of stars.  I saw a shooting star and remembered the last time I had seen one was when I was fifteen.

            We could not have hoppers for breakfast so we had to have the continental breakfast that is served in most hotels in Sri Lanka.  As we left the hotel, we saw a beautiful beach.  Too bad we could not stay longer.  When I finally opened the guidebook, as we drove along, the Tangalla Bay Hotel was shown in a picture and mentioned as one of the Southern coasts most popular hotels.  They did not have to redecorate the place to get people to stay there after all.

Bobbin Lace

         When I saw some girls sitting and doing  bobbin lace under a roof supported by four poles, I didn’t hesitate to ask Atley to stop the car because I wanted to see them.  Ever since I had purchased a lace shawl in Malta I wanted to see lace making and had even searched in Switzerland in July, but did not see the lace being made.  I was excited to see ten chattering girls working with white cotton threads.  I don't know how long it takes to master the skill and I don't know where to find actual one the job training if I want it.  I was led into a house as I was watching the girls working.  In the dining room, a woman in her late thirties showed me many lace products done by girls.  She was the teacher.  I saw a wedding picture on the wall.  She was very nice looking bride in a dress totally of lace.  I asked her if she made the dress herself.  She said "Yes."  I bought two colors for Chika's dress that I thought I would make some day.  We took many pictures of them, with many children.  Needless to say, we promised to send the pictures to them.  Atley was pleased to find another attraction for handicraft lovers.

            We arrived in Galle at mid-day.  At the gate of this Portuguese fortress,  we stopped to take pictures.   One Sri Lankan came to the car with coins from another century.  He said that he was selling his grandfather's coin collection for his school tuition.  We did not necessarily believe the story, but it was well told and because he was so pleasant and clever, we bought a silver coin and two old Portuguese copper bar coins.  They are beauties.  Two hundred yards away a gaggle of coin sellers spotted us and began to give chase.  Jeff was begged to buy another silver coin for a slightly better price, but we were not in the mood to buy more coins.  It was obvious that the political troubles in Sri Lanka were affecting the livelihood of those who sell to those from far away.

            The Dutch Reformed Church was closed for lunch time.  Atley was not about to leave Galle without showing us the church.  We had a little snack at the New Oriental Hotel next to the church.  It was a nice colonial style building and there were mane pictures on the wall reflecting the presence of the British Raj in Southern India.  A large group of Germans were eating lunch.  We were not in the mood to share the dining room with a noisy group.  As soon as we stepped out of the building, there were three or four children trying to sell us lace or shells.  We had to stay inside.  Atley went somewhere for lunch.  It was a long thirty minutes.  

            Atley came back and told us that the Church was open.  On the way to the church, I bargained with an eleven-year-old girl for fifty-cent item. The church was built on the site of a Portuguese monastery in 1755.  The floor was paved with tombstones from an old Dutch cemetary ala Westminster Abby.  Many tombstones were marked with a skull and cross-bones.  I thought this was the mark of pirates.  I was told that this meant that death came at an early age.  Many of the so marked toms were for captains, or some other military figure who ended his career at an early age and far from home.  Outside was the graveyard.  Jeff pointed at one of the gravestones.  It was an eloquent stone telling us of the hardship of another age’s expatriate life.   

Although there might have been some children who survived, how many times did these parents cry in despair?  We looked at our children and looked at each other.  When we left the graveyard, the same little girl was waiting for me outside.  I gave up.  I bought a small lace from her.  

            Rohit would not let us stop anywhere else because he was anxious to find Mark and go snorkeling in Hikkaduwa.  It did not take Atley any time to find the hotel where the Campbells' were staying!  The Campbells' had gone for lunch.  We checked into a triple room next to their room.  Jeff made a special order fo "hoppers" breakfast in the restaurant.  The girl took it with a nice smile and said "No problem."  Later Jeff went to the Receptionist with Atley to confirm the order.  We were very hungry for Sri Lankan cuisine.  I think we told everybody in the hotel that we were going to have "hoppers" for breakfast.

Hikkaduwa

            At the tail of the monsoon, the water was still rough and the waves kept the sand from settling on the bottom.  The childr4en were happy on the beach.  I did some washing.  It was late afternoon, Sharon, Mark, Jeff and Rohit went snorkeling, while Doug and I were watched Chika socialize with the women clothing sellers just as we had done together in Phuket six months before.

            We all went out for dinner together with our guide and drivers.  Campbells' guide was Buddhist, the driver was Moslem, and Atley was Catholic.  We had crabs, lobsters and fish at an outdoor restaurant.  We had Scotch, and Arak.  I don't remember any of the conversation at the dinner table because I was knocked down by a slug of Arak or Scotch.  I guess I joined Rohit and Chika, sleeping on three chairs there so peacefully for a while. 

            Our second to last morning in Sri Lanka started with a whopper of a hopper of a disappointment.  There were no hoppers for breakfast!  Nobody had taken charge to make sure it would happen.  We hated to do it but talked to the manager and asked him to find them somewhere in town.  He managed to do this and the food was good but it could have been better if they had been cooked on the spot.